


I Have A Complete Memory Record Of That Day

by Erua



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erua/pseuds/Erua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genre exercise: angst. Data recalls a moment spent in his brother's company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have A Complete Memory Record Of That Day

**Author's Note:**

> Paramount owns 'em.

Data's fingers move slowly over his face. They follow the slight curve of his forehead, trace an eyebrow, pass along the small hollow of his temple. They slide over the second, more pronounced curve of his cheekbone and down his cheek to the corner of his mouth. There he pauses for a moment, his eyes studying the same features he has just registered by touch. Then he presses his fingers to his lips, slightly parting them as he carefully traces their shape. The golden hue of two pairs of eyes grows a small fraction of a shade darker.

He watches his hand in the mirror as it continues down along the curve of his throat, the ribbed, regular structure of his sternum, the smooth plane of his chest. His thumb passes over a nipple and he lifts his gaze back to his own face, observing it intently while he repeats the gesture. His hand slides further over his belly and down to his thigh.

As he looks himself in the eyes again his features begin to change. He lifts the cheek muscles directly next to his nose, as if he is about to bare his teeth. His eyes narrow and the corners of his mouth curl up into a tiny, disdainful smile. With that expression he takes in the full sight of his own naked body - the strong shoulders, the narrow hips, the pale, immaculate skin.

Finally he brings his hand back to his mouth and, his gaze never leaving that of his mirror image, licks the palm with a flat tongue. Then he tilts his head slightly backwards, folds the gleaming hand around his erection and begins to stroke himself.

A voice resounds in his mind, as clear as if it were audible in the room. _How do you like that, brother?_ He begins to breathe more deeply. The calm rising and falling of his chest complements the quick, steady rhythm of his hand. Guided by memory, his other hand slides up over his chest, fingers lightly following a collarbone before they close around his throat. _I'll just hold you like this, shall I?_

His breath quickens momentarily as the hand moves on to his shoulder, the nails dragging lazily across his skin. A name hovers on his lips, but he doesn't speak it. Instead his left hand works faster and faster. Gradually his eyes close.

Lore is whispering in his ear. His hands are testing Data's functions, caressing him, hurting him. Data struggles to process every single sensation that flows into his circuits, every indivisible point on his body where he can feel his brother's touch, every millimeter of his skin that melts when Lore's tongue passes over it, each hot sting of pleasure that sinks into him when his brother's teeth pierce its soft surface. Finally, like always, the continuing, accumulating stimulations become more and more difficult to distinguish and they begin to close around him, enfolding him like his brother's arms that keep him steady as he starts to tremble, his whole being opening up to that one single, overpowering desire. Only Lore's voice is still perfectly clear.

_Go on. Show me how much you want me._

He gasps. His eyes flash open again, regarding their counterparts with a look that no one else wlll ever see.

_Yes - like that. Very good._

Honeycolored semen stains his mirror image's chest. He turns away slowly, shutting off the access to his memory banks as he opens a drawer. Still, as surely as he can anticipate the favorite expressions of his colleagues, he knows which words are next. _Come here, brother. You've asked for it so sweetly._

He takes out a piece of cloth, kneels down beneath the mirror and begins to clean it. Avoiding the reflection, his gaze touches only the surface, a dark pane of glass that gleams evenly in the light from the surrounding, empty room.


End file.
